Strange Condition
by Lady Atropos
Summary: Even imaginative young ladies can enter reality long enough to think they’ve fallen in love. (One-shot)


Summary: Even imaginative young ladies can enter reality long enough to think they've fallen in love. (One-shot)

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Strange Condition

by Lady Atropos

I know you know me. You've known me since the moment you saw my face. I'm the strange one; the one that doesn't fit in; the one who stands out, whether or not I want to. I've tried to avoid it, I've tried to block it out, I've tried to make myself look like everyone else, but everyone finds out eventually. I can't keep it a secret. It's just who I am—it's been a part of me since my parents, my strange, strange parents, decided to raise a strange child. It's always there, always tagging me as the "special case", or the "delicate one" or "the loner". I can't escape it. 

I don't want your sympathy or your comfort. Do you really think that by this time anyone, much less someone barely more than a stranger, could change things for me? I've only met one person in my life who's been able to understand my strange condition. He was the same as I am, only I didn't know it at the time. All I knew was that he had something similar to me—something that marked him, and had since he was young. He seemed to be doing better than I ever managed so far; he got the looks and the whispers when he first came here, but afterward everything was alright for him. I recognized him at the start; I recognized another outsider like me. It wasn't fair that afterward he fit in. It wasn't fair that I couldn't do the same, too.

I guess it's inevitable that most "young ladies" who read and have imaginations will, at some point or another, develop a crush on one of their teachers, generally the young one with a mild temperament. I know you're thinking right now that any romantic relationship between a student and teacher is shameful, that it deserves all the disgust that is regularly directed at it; and, in some ways, I would agree. But I only had a crush—I never acted on it, never tried to seduce him, never even did any of the stupid things that girls do when they have crushes on adults. I simply quietly admired him. And in that respect, I don't think you could blame me. He had greying light brown hair that fell around amber eyes, eyes that glinted and glowed when he taught his favorite subject. If I hadn't been gazing at him so raptly, I might have fallen asleep by his voice on several occasions after my less somnolent nights. He had a hoarse voice, but in that indefinable middle-low range that could dip into a comforting purr when he encouraged a nervous student, or rise to a mellow, even tone, like the nice deep hum of a cello, when he politely responded to the jabs directed at him for his shabby robes.

He didn't even laugh at me like the others when I told him about my father and his search for the unfathomable. I felt ashamed afterwards; had I disappointed him by showing off the hopes and beliefs most other witches and wizards called foolish, childish? But the only person whose scorn I most feared I had never seen show scorn to anyone, anytime. I wanted to apologize, for once I wanted to _say_ I was sorry for being so strange, but before I could he smiled and nodded and told me that imagination was an important thing, even for wizards.

Even imaginative young ladies can enter reality long enough to think they've fallen in love. If I had another year, I would have got over it. I would have pressed out any fancy I still felt for him, pushed it in behind all my other illusions and fantasies, pretended it wasn't there. He left that year, though, and I spent that summer rereading his letter to me, his fellow loner, while my father hunted his fantastic beasts:

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Dear Luna,

I must leave quickly, so I hope you and your classmates will forgive me for not saying goodbye. Before I go, however, I wanted to leave you with this; it is hard being different, but don't be beaten down by it. You deserve respect, not pity or disgust. Never hide under the wing of so-called friends just because they can protect you; be strong yourself and you will need no one. 

Take care,

RJL

So you can laugh at me behind your hands in our compartment; you can pretend you've figured me out, that I'm just dotty and there's nothing for it. I'm just has content with you here as without you. 

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